


in the still of the night (i hear the wolf howl, honey)

by blackrose1002, BlackVultures



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, But Not In An Asshole Way, First Kiss, First Time, Future Fic, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Knotting, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-26 19:15:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20394778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose1002/pseuds/blackrose1002, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVultures/pseuds/BlackVultures
Summary: Mac decided he didn’t want to open the conversation with “I know you’re a werewolf”, so instead he asked, “You okay?”Jack frowned at Mac’s question. “What? Yeah, I’m good, man. Any luck figuring out how to get outta here?” He took a few steps away, like he was strolling around, but it was clear he was putting some distance between them.“Not really,” Mac admitted, taking one more glance around the cell. Useful things stood out to him with their mental labels as usual, but weren’t many useful things. He looked at the cell door and frowned too, sliding a hand down one of the bars. “Are these made from silver?”“No idea,” Jack replied,waytoo quickly.(Or the one where Jack comes back from the Kovacs mission as a werewolf. That's it. That's the plot.)





	in the still of the night (i hear the wolf howl, honey)

**Author's Note:**

> Big hello to all my fellow monster-fuckers! No surprise here: [blackrose1002](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose1002/pseuds/blackrose1002) and I decided the MacDalton fandom needed a werewolf fic and, uh... they bang at the end. If you guys like this one, we have some ideas for a sequel... that involves the rest of the team finding out about Jack's condition... along with Murdoc. ;) I put this together so any mistakes are my own, and if you enjoy the fic, please let us know what you think!
> 
> (Title is from "Still Of The Night" by Whitesnake, but I prefer the Halestorm version.)

Mac noticed something was off with Jack as soon as he came back from the Kovacs mission.

The first thing was a little one: Jack was overjoyed to see the gang and everybody got a hug right away, but it didn’t escape Mac that Jack seemed to be… _smelling_ him during theirs. He chose to ignore it because he was happy Jack was alive and safe, and Mac liked the way his partner smelled (maybe a little too much) so he didn’t find it that strange.

What _was_ strange was how distant Jack was after that.

Nothing overt, not enough for anyone but Mac to see it—the first Saturday night after he got back Jack said he couldn’t make it to hang out with everybody at Mac’s place. Since Jack came back four months ago, he’d bailed on a get-together roughly once a month, and every time Mac would see Jack the next day and he’d look exhausted. Another thing: he’d gone over to Jack’s apartment a few times since he got back and noticed dog hair on his furniture and clothes. When Mac asked about it, all Jack said was that his neighbor’s dog liked to barge in sometimes while they were chatting.

Mac knew for a fact none of Jack’s neighbors had dogs.

A bunch of weird shit kept piling up, until one day in the lab at the Phoenix Mac vented about it to Bozer, who jokingly suggested Jack could be a werewolf. That made Mac pause, but he knew Bozer would call him crazy for considering it a possibility, so Mac laughed with him and changed the subject. But he couldn’t stop thinking about it, so that night he started researching in every place from the dark web to government databases.

Turned out it was more plausible than Mac originally thought, because there _was_ a small segment of the population, mostly from Eastern Europe, that was afflicted with lycanthropy. Further digging led to Mac realizing all the days Jack had said he couldn’t hang out were also the apex of the full moon; he also figured out that Jack had stopped wearing his Saint Michael medal because it was made from silver, and… well, the desire to have burgers and steaks cooked less was sort of self-explanatory.

The morning after Mac’s werewolf cramming session, before he could confront Jack, they were called in to go on a mission to Mexico. The rest of the team was scattered on other ops so it was just the two of them, and the last thing Mac wanted to do was jeopardize the mission by making Jack uncomfortable so he kept his mouth shut. That worked fine, until eventually the mission went sideways and they got captured by the bad guys they were tracking.

They were tossed into what was, at first glance, your run-of-the-mill jail cell, which wasn’t good news because there was nothing inside it that Mac could use to get them out. Normally Jack would’ve been cool and cracking jokes, knowing it helped Mac think, but instead he was… tense. It took Mac a second to recall the lunar calendar he looked at the night before, and another second to remember that not only was there a full moon that night, its apex would occur in about an hour.

Mac decided he didn’t want to open the conversation with “I know you’re a werewolf”, so instead he asked, “You okay?”

Jack frowned at Mac’s question. “What? Yeah, I’m good, man. Any luck figuring out how to get outta here?” He took a few steps away, like he was strolling around, but it was clear he was putting some distance between them.

“Not really,” Mac admitted, taking one more glance around the cell. Useful things stood out to him with their mental labels as usual, but weren’t many useful things. He looked at the cell door and frowned too, sliding a hand down one of the bars. “Are these made from silver?”

“No idea,” Jack replied, _way_ too quickly. “What, you thinking they put us in a fancy cell or something? We must be special.” It was a weak attempt at humor, and Jack leaned against one of the cinderblock walls, as far away from Mac as he could get.

Mac sighed, shoulders slumping before he turned to face Jack. “They _did_ put us in a fancy cell, Jack… and I think they did it because of you.” He gestured around them. “There’s only one window and it’s too high and small for us to do anything with it… but the moonlight comes in just fine, doesn’t it?”

“What?” Jack tried to look at him like he didn’t understand, but Mac could see the fear in his eyes. “What on earth are you talking about?”

Mac took a step closer and Jack pressed himself against the wall since there was nowhere to run. “The bars _are_ silver,” he continued, taking another step forward, because even if Jack was a werewolf, it didn’t matter. Mac was in love with him and had been for years, and Jack could’ve been purple with yellow spots and it wouldn’t have mattered. “Jack, listen to me, okay? I don’t care. If you’re really… if you’re a werewolf, it doesn’t bother me, but I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

Jack let out a hysterical laugh. “Werewolf? Are you insane? You watched too many of those crazy movies that Bozer keeps babbling about.”

“Well, you’re half right,” Mac admitted, something that was almost a smile pulling at his mouth. He was right in front of Jack, less than a foot of space between them. “Bozer was the one who gave me the idea when I listed off all the weird shit you’ve been doing since you got back from the Kovacs mission. I did the research, though, and I know I’m not insane.” He put his hands on Jack’s shoulders. “Please just tell me the truth.”

Jack made a wounded sound, turning his head and refusing to look at Mac. “Let it go. Please, you… you have to let it go.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “And you have to get as far away from me as you can. Please, Mac.”

“I can’t do that,” Mac said, his voice cracking. Another weak smile. “I wouldn’t anyway, but in case you haven’t noticed, I can’t put more than ten feet of distance between us.” He inched closer—more than friendly territory, but Mac figured _his_ secret was the least of their concerns. “You’re going to turn, aren’t you?”

Jack’s whole body was shaking and sweating, and he pushed past Mac to stumble to the opposite wall of the cell. “Mac, you don’t—I don’t—”

When the first bone snapped, Mac couldn’t help how he flinched. He knew from his cramming on werewolves that it was normal, but there would never be a scenario where Mac was okay with seeing Jack in pain. He knew better than to go near him during the transformation, so he backed into the opposite corner of the cell, sitting down with his knees drawn up to his chest to make himself as small and nonthreatening as possible. And because Mac was a masochist, he made himself watch the whole thing, wincing when Jack yelped or screamed. It was over in less than a minute, but it felt like a lifetime… and where Jack had been, a very big wolf stood in his place.

The wolf was beautiful. Much bigger than Mac imagined, definitely larger than your average wolf and even more majestic. The wolf—_Jack_—shook his whole body like a dog getting out of the water and then he sniffed the air. His head snapped in Mac’s direction, dark eyes staring right at him as he froze in place.

Mac froze too, an instinctive thing that came from his hindbrain. He wasn’t scared—he knew it was still Jack, and Jack would never hurt him. They stared at each other for several moments, and that was the time it hit Mac that this was real, that Jack got turned into a werewolf while he was gone and he’d been living that way for months, alone. He couldn’t help the tears that welled up in his eyes at that thought, and he pressed the heels of his hands into them until he saw white to try and get it to stop.

“I’m so sorry, Jack,” he said, voice soft and small. “I should’ve figured it out sooner.”

Jack tilted his head, reminding Mac of a huge, confused puppy. At that moment Mac realized that he had no idea how aware Jack was of everything when he was in his wolf form—could he process emotions? Recognize people? Mac didn’t succeed in stopping his tears and he angrily wiped them away when he felt them rolling down his cheeks… and then the wolf took a few slow, hesitant steps in his direction. Mac shut his eyes—because again, wolf or not, he wasn’t afraid of Jack—and took a deep breath, doing his best not to have a breakdown. They needed to find a way out, and the cage they were in was built to keep something like Jack inside.

“The guys who took us must’ve been able to tell you were a werewolf somehow,” he said, eyes still shut… until he felt a nudge against his hand where it was resting on his drawn-up knees. He cracked open an eye and found Jack watching him; Mac lowered his legs, and a pink tongue flicked out to lick the back of his hand. He smiled a little, because how could he not—that was adorable. “I’ve got to figure out a way to get us out of here. Whatever they have planned can’t be good.”

Jack huffed, and Mac wondered if he understood him at all. Obviously he recognized Mac somehow, because Mac doubted Jack would be this friendly as a wolf with just anyone. Mac raised his hand and reached forward, and when Jack didn’t move back, he gently placed his hand on top of Jack’s head, petting him a few times before scratching behind his ear. His fur was surprisingly soft for how coarse it looked from afar, black and dark brown mixed with gray. His eyes were brown like Jack’s, but ringed with a preternatural gold that seemed to glow from within.

“Of course you’re just as gorgeous as a wolf as you are as a person,” Mac muttered, scratching behind Jack’s other ear. He made a pleased noise and sat down right next to Mac’s leg, giving Mac an idea of exactly how heavy he was. His tail thumped against the concrete floor of the cell, which Mac took as another positive reaction. “I bet they expected you to kill me when you turned. We might be able to use that to our advantage.” Jack tilted his head again before shifting to lick Mac’s hand again. “You’re just a huge puppy, aren’t you?”

He yelped when Jack pressed his nose, his very _cold_ nose, against Mac’s cheek. He promptly licked a stripe over Mac’s cheek like an apology for startling him, and Mac pulled a face. “Dude,” he said, but didn’t go further than that because he was busy chuckling at how ridiculous the situation was. Besides, it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about Jack licking him—just maybe not while he was a giant dog.

Mac glanced around and noticed for the first time that because of the way the cell was constructed, when he sat in the corner he didn’t think he could be seen from outside the bars. If two guards came like the last time—wait, no, it would be four, they knew Jack had turned—Mac and Jack might have an advantage. “Very simple plan,” he said, not so much for Jack’s sake as his own. “I’ll sit here, and as soon as they open that door we take them out, yeah? We’re gonna get one shot at this, so we have to make it count. I hope you aren’t as friendly with them as you are with me.”

Mac patted Jack’s head one more time, and even if Jack didn’t understand what he was saying, he must’ve figured something out, because he shifted and laid down on the floor. His huge body was pressed against Mac’s thigh, head flat on the ground, eyes fixed on the door. Gently, Mac put his hand on Jack’s back… and they waited.

~***~

A couple hours passed, and Mac was just about to drift off when Jack lifted his head, a growl rumbling in his throat. He prowled away from Mac, toward the middle of the cell, fur bristling and teeth bared. The four guards (ha, Mac was right) approaching the cell were talking amongst themselves in Spanish—Mac couldn’t pick up every word, but he heard something about “selling the fleabag to the highest bidder” and that made his blood boil. They all had guns, and one of them was armed with what looked like a dog-catching collar on steroids; they opened the cell and came in as a practiced unit, but they were so focused on Jack’s snarling and growling that none of them saw Mac lurking in the corner.

“_El maldito perro del infierno_,” the guard holding the collar muttered under his breath, and Mac lunged at him, grabbing him by the shirt and tossing him against the wall as hard as he could.

He threw a punch at the second guard, hoping Jack would take care of the other two. The first guard recovered quickly and rejoined the fight, but Mac could handle fighting two guys at a time. He was a little preoccupied but from the screaming and swearing it sounded like Jack had his two guards locked down; Mac took a punch to the jaw that made him stumble but he stayed on his feet, and eventually won his fight. Jack trotted over to him, muzzle red with blood, and licked his chops before nuzzling Mac’s hand.

“Nice job,” Mac said, patting him on the head (he refused to say “good boy”). “Now, let’s see if we can get the hell out of here.”

While looking for a way out, Mac started thinking ahead. It wasn’t like he could call Matty after they escaped—he had no idea how long Jack would be turned and he didn’t want to reveal Jack’s secret without his permission, so exfil was out of the question. They needed to find someplace to stay and wait for Jack to shift again, but they’d have to walk since none of the cars parked around the compound would accommodate Jack’s large body in this form. To give them a head start, Mac set up a few surprise explosions for their kidnappers… and if the whole place blew sky-high while he and Jack walked away, oh well.

They weren’t far outside Mexico City, which was surprising, but Mac took it as a blessing in disguise because it wasn’t hard to find an abandoned home to lie low in until the sun came up. Once they got inside Mac shoved a heavy bureau in front of the door to prevent any surprises, and Jack loped around the perimeter of the house, nose to the floor, sniffing curiously before he came back to Mac’s side. For his part, Mac was happy to have a wall to lean against that wasn’t made of concrete. It wasn’t exactly warm inside the house, however, and despite his fondness for layers he was still chilly now that the adrenaline had left his system.

He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself, but it didn’t help. Suddenly, Jack moved from where he’d sat down next to him and shoved his nose against Mac’s ribs, and after a second Mac realized Jack wanted him to move away from the wall. Curious, he did exactly that and Jack moved behind him, lying down on the floor and nudging Mac’s hip with a small whine. Mac thought he understood and curled up against Jack’s body, burying his fingers in his fur. While Jack was always warm as a human, he was a furnace in his wolf form, and once Mac laid down Jack let out a pleased sigh and settled his head on the floor.

Mac yawned hard enough that his jaw cracked, pillowing his head on Jack’s enormous rib cage. “I know you can’t understand me right now,” he said, and put a hand on Jack’s big head, thumb stroking the dip in the middle of his skull. “But you need to know… this doesn’t matter to me, Jack. Not at all. I…” He took a deep breath. “I’ve loved you for years now, and nothing’s going to change that. Was I expecting this? Of course not. But you’re still you.”

Jack turned his head to look at him before licking Mac’s hand, and Mac couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Jack… got some of what he was saying. Not the words, but _something_… he didn’t know how to describe it, but somehow Jack knew what Mac wanted to do back in the cell? Letting out another yawn, Mac decided to think about that later, and even though they were stranded in Mexico City, he felt completely safe. Knowing Jack would alert him if someone tried to get into the house, Mac let himself drift away.

~***~

The morning light seeping through the boards over the windows woke Mac up, and the first thing he noticed was that overnight his pillow had become less furry and more… soft, like skin? His eyes snapped open, and he found that he and Jack were still curled together, but Jack was human again… and _super_ naked. Not surprising considering Mac watched his clothes disintegrate; he’d grabbed up Jack’s wallet once the transformation was over, but that was all that was around to save.

Jack stirred, and Mac could tell exactly when he awoke fully because his entire body tensed. Pushing himself up a little, Mac did not look lower and kept his eyes on Jack’s face… which had fear written all over it, eyes wide as he stared at Mac, but Mac only smiled. “Hey, Jack.”

“Hey,” Jack replied hoarsely, clearing his throat. He glanced around at their surroundings before his eyes came back to Mac’s, almost like he couldn’t help it. He had an arm slung over Mac and either didn’t realize it or didn’t want to move it. “Where the hell are we?”

“Some abandoned house, still in Mexico City,” Mac said, and when Jack frowned like he was confused, it hit Mac that Jack didn’t remember how the mission went bad or that he turned the night before. “Jack? What do you—?”

He cut off when Jack’s eyes went wide with realization, because even though they were pressed together in several places that Mac was trying desperately not to think about, apparently it hadn’t dawned on Jack until now that he was naked. The fear on Jack’s face drained away, replaced by something… much worse, a careful blankness, like he was bracing for a blow.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, tone quiet and sad.

“No, you didn’t, of course you didn’t,” Mac said softly, gesturing at himself to show Jack that he was just fine. “You’d never hurt me, Jack… but you should have told me.”

“And how was I supposed to start that conversation, huh? ‘Oh, by the way—listen buddy, I had Kovacs cornered and he fucking turned me into a werewolf before I could kill him for real this time’?” Jack’s tone was crude and self-deprecating, and his eyes cut away to look at the wall. “No wonder the bastard didn’t die the first time around. Good thing when you cut off something’s head it dies, no matter what it is.”

“That’s exactly what you should’ve told me.” Mac tried and failed to look Jack in the eye, his voice cracking. “Instead of going through all this alone. This doesn’t change anything, you have to know that.”

But Jack shook his head. “Mac, you don’t understand,” he whispered, and when he finally looked at Mac he was alarmed to see tears in Jack’s brown eyes. “I’m not _me_ anymore, not really. I’ve been pretending these past few weeks, but I’m… I’m a monster.”

“You’re still you, Jack,” Mac argued immediately. “If you were a monster, would I still be here? No, because you would’ve killed me. Why do you think we’re lying like this right now? Would a monster offer to keep me warm at night?”

Jack’s face almost seemed to crack in half, and his arm left Mac’s body—making Mac’s stomach drop for a split second—only for his hand to come up and cup Mac’s cheek. “A lovesick one might.”

For a moment Mac was sure he misheard, but once again Jack looked like he was waiting for Mac to hit him. His eyes widened slightly and he didn’t dare to move, not wanting Jack to take his hand away. His heart was pounding so hard he was afraid it might jump out of his chest. “Jack?”

Jack took in a shuddering breath. “I’ve been in love with you for years, kid. And if I thought it was hard to hide it from you before… well, now it’s pretty much impossible.” Suddenly he was pulling away, tears welling in his eyes again. “I’ll get out of your life once I get you back home safe, I promise.”

And Mac couldn’t have that—the idea of Jack leaving his life was a truly terrifying prospect. Fear was a great motivator, making him lunge forward, his hands grabbing Jack’s face to pull him in for a kiss. Despite what Jack just said there was a prickle of uncertainty that ran up Mac’s spine, but Jack was frozen for only a second before he kissed back, his arm sliding around Mac’s body again. The kiss grew heated quickly and Mac made a soft sound when Jack nipped at his bottom lip.

That sound brought Jack back to reality, and he pulled away again. “You don’t want this, Mac.”

Mac licked his lips, pupils blown wide. He blinked at Jack and didn’t relinquish his grip on his face, pulling himself closer again. “But I do,” he said, eyes searching Jack’s face. “I’ve wanted it for so long, since the Sandbox—I just never thought you wanted it too.”

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Jack said quietly. “What matters is that I’m… I’m dangerous, Mac.” His voice cracked. “I could hurt you or worse, and I might not realize it until it was too late. I can’t… I can’t control it. I don’t know if I ever will.” He looked at Mac with so much pain in his eyes that it broke Mac’s heart. “I can’t risk your life like that. And you can stop pretending that you’re just… so fine with all of this.”

“I’m not pretending,” Mac insisted, but he sensed that wasn’t how he was going to get through to Jack. And because he was MacGyver, he always had another idea. His hands went to Jack’s shoulders and he rolled them so Jack was on top of him… and then he tilted his head to the side, baring his throat in submission. “I’m not afraid of you, because you’re not going to hurt me. If you were you would’ve done it already, or you’d do it right now—and you won’t.”

Jack let out a pained sound, bowing his head… before he grabbed Mac’s wrists and pinned them to the floor on either side of Mac’s head. Leaning closer, he started growling, a deep rumbling sound coming from somewhere in his chest, and he stared into Mac’s eyes. Mac didn’t flinch or fight back, only returned his gaze, calm as ever, until Jack eventually fell silent.

Mac arched an eyebrow. “You done?”

Jack slumped down on top of Mac, the grip on his wrist slackening. His face wound up pressed against Mac’s neck and he breathed in deeply, making a high-pitched whining sound in the back of his throat. Mac wrapped his arms around him, one hand rubbing up and down his back comfortingly. He was careful not to move his hand too low, still aware that Jack was naked.

“Jack, how much do you remember from when you’re turned?” Mac asked, after a beat of silence.

“Not much,” Jack replied, his lips brushing the skin of Mac’s throat. “I get flashes here and there. I remember being in the cell with you, and then… you…” He trailed off, and the next time he spoke there was a touch of wonder in his voice. “You weren’t afraid. You saw me change, and you… you didn’t…”

Mac moved his hand from Jack’s back to the back of his neck, running his fingers through Jack’s short hair. “I didn’t what?”

“I couldn’t have stood it if you’d been scared.” Jack leaned into Mac’s touch. “You’re never scared, or at least when you are, I’m the thing between you and whatever’s doing the scaring, you know? And if you’d been scared of me instead, I probably would’ve jumped headlong into those silver bars.”

“God, Jack, _no_,” Mac gasped, his eyes widening. “Of course I wasn’t afraid of you—it was _you_.” He hugged Jack tighter and smiled. “Besides… you’re basically a huge puppy when you’re turned. Well, at least with me.”

“A huge puppy, huh?” Jack mused, nuzzling Mac’s jaw. “I’ve got a feelin’ that puppy did some serious damage to those bad guys, judging from the way the inside of my mouth tastes.”

“Fine, you’re a huge puppy with very sharp teeth. I was happy you went along with my plan, but other than that you’re just a giant lapdog.” Mac was teasing, but he softened his voice. “Do you believe me now? That this doesn’t bother me?”

Jack lifted his head to look at him, eyes turning that brilliant shade of gold that had surrounded the outside of the wolf’s irises. “If you’re sure, then I guess I’ve got no choice, do I?” he asked wryly, but there was an edge of hope to his voice that hadn’t been there until now. His hand came up to touch Mac’s face again, almost reverently, before he blurted out, “I’m really fucking naked right now, ain’t I?”

Mac couldn’t help but laugh at that. “You really, really are. I guess we need to organize some clothes for you or everyone’s going to stare at us.”

“Which means I should move,” Jack said, and proceeded to do the opposite of that. The only thing that happened was he blinked his eyes and they turned brown again… and then he leaned down and pressed his lips to Mac’s in a sweet, chaste kiss.

When he pulled back, Mac smiled at him. “I think you were supposed to move _away_. Not that I’m complaining.” He let his arms slowly slide off of Jack’s body. “But we really should get out of here, and now that I don’t have to out you as a werewolf, I should call Matty.”

Jack pushed himself off of Mac, dropping a kiss to his forehead before going in search of clothes in the nearest bedroom. Mac, meanwhile, figured out how to rewire the landline phone so it would work again before calling the Phoenix. “Hey, Matty? It’s me. The mission turned went sideways.”

“Are you two okay?” Matty asked, concern in her voice until Mac hummed affirmatively. “What happened?”

Mac told her select portions of what went down, fibbing a little and saying the kidnappers were going to sell them into slavery rather than outing Jack as a werewolf. Speaking of Jack, he heard him sneezing furiously in the next room, but when he emerged he was fully clothed in jeans and a t-shirt. Matty informed him that she’d arrange for exfil at the nearest small airstrip and gave him directions he memorized before hanging up.

He looked at Jack, who was wrinkling his nose. “Are you okay?” The corner of his lips twitched up in a smile because that expression on Jack’s face was cute, and now that he was dressed Mac didn’t have to worry about where he was looking or being too close. He walked up and wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck, still amazed that he got to do that whenever he wanted to now.

“Dusty,” was Jack’s answer, his hands going to Mac’s hips before his fingers linked at the small of his back. “There’s a part of me that can’t believe this is real.”

“Same here,” Mac admitted quietly, moving a hand to Jack’s face, thumb stroking the skin under his eye. “You said… you said that while it was hard for you before, it was nearly impossible for you to hide your feelings for me after you were turned. What did you mean by that?”

“It’s sort of hard to explain,” Jack said. “Everything is more intense now—my senses, yeah, but also my emotions. So when I get angry I get _real_ angry, when I’m sad I’m super sad… and I’m even more in love with you than I was before, if that’s possible.”

Mac tilted his head and smiled softly. “I love you too. I don’t think I said that before.” He leaned in and pressed their lips together. They needed to get to exfil, but he figured they could wait another minute—after all, once they left the relative safety of the house, there was no telling when they’d get time alone again.

Jack kissed him back immediately, one of his hands sliding up Mac’s back to cup his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. It was intimate and familiar, like they should’ve been doing it for much longer; when Mac licked over Jack’s lower lip he hesitated for a split second before letting him in, and Mac could taste the blood Jack was talking about before… and he didn’t mind it in the slightest. He made a little sound when Jack’s teeth nipped at his top lip and his other hand slipped into the back pocket of Mac’s jeans. And Mac was pretty sure if they didn’t stop, they wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon, and they couldn’t miss exfil. He forced himself to pull away, and Jack made the same high-pitched whining sound he did earlier.

“Where’s exfil?” Jack asked, and when Mac explained he frowned. “I don’t suppose you have my—”

“No, but I’ve got the next best thing.” Mac pulled a handgun he’d taken off one of the dead guards from the back of his waistband. “Couldn’t find your gun, and I figured this is better than nothing.”

“Nice.” Jack grabbed the gun and checked the load, then twirled it on his index finger before shoving it behind his back. “We should probably get our stories straight, in case we aren’t debriefed together when we get back.”

They moved the furniture away from the door and stepped out on to the street, walking at a slow, casual pace to avoid catching anyone’s attention. “It would also be nice to know how these guys knew about you being a wolf. I told Matty it was a human trafficking lure, and maybe it was until they figured out you were turned? But how would they know?”

“I’ve been trying to figure that out myself, and I’m not sure.” Jack said. “I didn’t even tell the guys on the strike team—they knew Kovacs bit me during our fight but they didn’t know what he was. I only found out because I got him riled up enough that his eyes and fangs came out. Is there some kind of werewolf detection device I don’t know about?”

“How would I know?” Mac asked, glancing at Jack. “I knew almost nothing about werewolves until two nights ago, man.” They followed Matty’s directions and got to the airstrip, where a private jet from the Phoenix was waiting for them. “I’ll figure it out, though. Right now I just want to get the hell out of Mexico.”

~***~

The flight back to LA only took a few hours, so pretty soon they were getting into Jack’s car. Debrief had been pushed to the following day to give them a chance to rest, so Mac asked, “My place or yours?”

“Mine?” Jack suggested, glancing over at him. “I guess we should probably talk more about the… thing, and I’d rather not have anyone walk in on us. Your place is like Grand Central sometimes.”

“Why, just because bad guys invite themselves inside every week?” Mac joked, but not really, because it did happen a lot.

Jack smiled a little and reached over, taking Mac’s hand and holding it while he drove. They didn’t talk after that, but the silence wasn’t awkward—it was comfortable. Soon they were inside Jack’s apartment and on the couch with beers, and Mac nudged his way under Jack’s arm to cuddle into his side. Jack wrapped that arm around him and pressed a kiss to his hair, and after a moment Mac ran a hand up Jack’s chest. “You’re tense.”

“Just thinking,” Jack said, picking up Mac’s hand where it rested over his heart and turning it over to kiss the back of it. “Which is something I haven’t been able to do, not clearly… until right now, with you.”

The skin on Mac’s hand tingled from the touch of Jack’s lips and he couldn’t stop a soft smile from appearing on his face. He shifted so he was lying on the couch on his back with his head pillowed on Jack’s thighs, his arm slung over Mac’s chest. “How so?”

“You know how you told me a long time ago that me talking helps you think?” Jack asked, and when Mac nodded, he continued, “It’s kind of like that… but you don’t need to talk. I think I’m so used to you—your smell, how you move—that the part of me that’s not human doesn’t get so restless when you’re around.” A pause. “Did that make any sense, or am I just talking out my ass?”

Mac was having an internal crisis, because the thought of Jack feeling that way about _him_ made his heart feel like it was going to burst. “It… it did, actually,” he said slowly. “I just can’t believe I have that effect on you.”

Jack smiled at him, a soft, genuine thing that a lot of people didn’t get to see. “Well, it’s the truth. You’ve always made me better, Mac. Now it’s just in more ways than one.” The arm that wasn’t draped across Mac’s chest moved, fingers sliding through golden hair, pushing it back from his face.

Mac leaned into the touch and debated whether he should ask the question that had been on his mind for a while. “How many times… when did you turn for the first time?”

“The bite gives you the werewolf curse, but the thing that activates it is killing someone,” Jack said, and when Mac’s eyes widened he chuckled. “I know, morbid, huh? But since the first person I killed after I got bit was Kovacs… I turned right after that. Healed my wounds up nicely, but I had to stay away from the strike team until I could figure out how the hell to turn back. I was missing for three days, they were afraid I was dead—I made up some story about how I got hit on the head and had amnesia. I turn on every full moon whether I want to or not, and I’ve… sorta figured out turning at will. It’s more painful to do it on my own than with the pull of the moon, but I figured it might be useful at some point.”

The thought of Jack having to figure everything out on his own made Mac’s heart crack, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Jack, I’m so sorry you had to go through all of this alone. I should’ve known something was wrong.”

Jack frowned, his hand stilling momentarily in Mac’s hair. “Hey, now, don’t turn this around on yourself—you had no way of knowin’, Mac, and if you’ll recall I was doing my best to hide it from you. I’d just gotten you back… I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you if you found out what I was.”

Mac shook his head. “You’re never going to lose me, Jack. There’s nothing in the world that would cause that.” He looked into Jack’s eyes, hoping Jack could see that he meant each word. “I love every part of you. And that includes the wolf inside you too.”

“Yeah, well, I like that,” Jack said, his voice rough with emotion, “and so does the wolf. Maybe a little too much.”

He leaned down to kiss Mac, and right before his eyes closed they flashed that ethereal gold color. Mac wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck and kissed back, then used his grip to pull himself up and climb on Jack’s lap, straddling his thighs. Parting his lips, Mac made a pleased sound when Jack’s tongue slipped into his mouth and he pressed himself even closer, just in time for Jack’s arms to slide around his back. His hands started to wander almost immediately, one settling between his shoulder blades while the other squeezed Mac’s hip. He moaned when Jack nipped on his lower lip and was first to break the kiss, trailing his lips along Jack’s stubbled jaw down to his neck, his hands moving to grip Jack’s shoulders.

The hand Jack had on his hip crept around until it could cup Mac’s ass, squeezing lightly; a groan rumbled out of him when Mac’s lips found a sensitive spot on the side of his neck and he followed it up with teeth. He sucked a bruise into the spot before kissing his way back to Jack’s lips, his hips twitching when Jack squeezed his ass again. Mac felt himself getting hard, and more than that, he felt the same thing happening to Jack—and judging from what he felt, Jack was _big_. And that… shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did, but then again, everything about Jack (including the werewolf thing) seemed to push Mac’s buttons.

He remembered something from his research the other day, and he wondered if there was any truth to it. “This is an awkward question,” Mac panted, breaking away from Jack’s mouth long enough to speak. “But have you… you know—” he ground his hips down a little to make his point “—since you got turned?”

“What?” Jack gasped out, shaking his head. “No, no—I kinda had other things on my mind. Why?”

“Just… keep an open mind, okay?” Mac said, because the longer he squirmed in Jack’s lap (which he might’ve been doing to see Jack’s reaction), the more certain he was that when they made it to the bedroom there might be a surprise in store. He reattached his lips to Jack’s and squeezed his hips with his thighs—and broke away to swear when Jack stood up, picking Mac up like he weighed nothing. “Holy shit, that’s hot.”

Jack smirked and started walking, managing not to crash into anything while Mac kissed him again. Once they reached Jack’s room, he tossed Mac on the bed and yanked his t-shirt over his head before crawling on top of Mac, whose eyes were drawn to a large raised ridge of scar tissue in Jack’s shoulder, newer and pinker than the rest of the scars on his body. Looking closer, Mac saw it was definitely the remnants of a bite, and he realized exactly what kind of bite a second later. His hand covered the mark when Jack leaned down to kiss him, fingers learning the texture of it as Jack’s hands snuck under the hem of Mac’s t-shirt.

Mac broke the kiss for a moment, but only to pull his shirt over his head, and the second he tossed it away Jack’s lips were back on his, one of his hands slowly sliding down Mac’s chest. Mac’s hands wandered, moving over Jack’s shoulders and down his back, settling briefly in the dip of his spine before moving lower still. He didn’t play coy, fingers on both hands slipping under the back of Jack’s jeans to grope at his ass and pull him closer, legs spreading to accommodate the breadth of Jack’s hips.

It was Jack’s turn to break the kiss, moving his lips to Mac’s neck and nosing along his pulse for a moment, no doubt hearing Mac’s heart thumping and smelling the blood flowing under his skin. He bit down with human teeth and Mac arched underneath him, a guttural moan leaving his throat, nails digging into Jack’s ass. He moved lower, sucking a bruise into the skin below Mac’s collarbone, and one of Mac’s hands moved to try and work on the button of Jack’s jeans. Jack’s hands, meanwhile, got Mac’s pants completely undone while his mouth went lower still, lips finding one of Mac’s nipples. Mac moaned Jack’s name as he swirled his tongue around the sensitive nub, his hips snapping up involuntarily. He pushed Jack’s jeans down as far as he could before Jack pulled back long enough to kick them off and yank down Mac’s, leaving them in their underwear, which Mac started clawing at immediately.

“Okay, okay,” Jack half-laughed, and stripped them both naked, managing to toss the clothes away before Mac’s hands were on him again. Mac reeled him in for a bruising kiss, one hand moving to wrap around his cock, thick and hard with the slightest bulge near the base. The touch must’ve caught Jack off guard because he let out a deep groan before cursing. “_Fuck_, Mac.”

Mac smirked, nipping on Jack’s bottom lip and giving his cock a few slow strokes. Now that he knew how Jack’s cock felt in his hand, he couldn’t wait to get it inside him. He made an educated guess and reached out his other hand to pull open Jack’s nightstand drawer, and sure enough, Jack had supplies.

“Pretty sure we don’t need these,” he said, tossing the condoms aside in favor of grabbing the lube. He doubted that werewolves carried STDs, and if he was being honest, he didn’t think a condom would fit on Jack’s cock. Jack, who looked… surprised that Mac was handing him the lube? “We’re on the same page, yeah?”

Jack stared at him with wide eyes for a moment. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” He bit his lip, looking at Mac hesitantly. “Just… are you sure about this? I don’t want to accidentally—”

Mac’s hands framed Jack’s face and he pulled him down for a gentle kiss. “You won’t,” he assured, and privately Mac didn’t mind if it wound up hurting a little bit. “Just go slow.” Before Jack could open his mouth, Mac smiled and added, “And if I want to stop, I’ll tell you.”

Jack kissed Mac’s cheek before opening the lube and putting some on his fingers. Mouthing at his jaw, Jack pressed his finger against Mac’s entrance, slowly pushing in, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. Mac made a hoarse sound, hips twitching like Jack was doing much more than stretching him with a single digit. His thumb teased Mac’s rim as he drew out the first finger and added a second done. He curled them inward and Mac started clawing at his shoulders because he found his prostate. Burying his face in Mac’s neck, Jack started moving his fingers again, and Mac made an impatient noise that quickly morphed into a moan when Jack’s fingers touched his prostate again. Grinning against his skin, Jack added a third finger, moving them back and forth, Mac rolling his hips down and trying to fuck himself on that pressure.

Part of Mac was aware that he needed as much stretching as he could get, and when he clenched down on Jack’s fingers he groaned his appreciation when Jack splayed them wide, twisting them in a way that had him seeing stars. “Jack, _Jack_, please,” he gasped. “Please.” He shivered with lust and want, grabbing Jack’s face to pull him into a kiss, and he couldn’t help but gasp again when he felt the head of Jack’s cock brush his hole.

Jack’s whole body shuddered, and he lubed himself up with shaking hands, grabbing Mac’s hips as he started to push inside. There was an odd moment when it felt like the base of Jack’s cock almost didn’t get past Mac’s rim, but it popped in and then he was fully seated. Mac was completely out of breath, his pupils blown and his lips parted, and he appreciated that Jack pressed gentle kisses down Mac’s neck and gave him time to adjust to the fullness.

After a moment Mac’s arms wrapped around Jack’s back, his lips brushing his stubbled cheek. “You can move,” he whispered, exhaling sharply when he felt Jack’s cock twitch inside him as if in response to those words.

Leaning back to look at Mac, Jack pressed a short kiss to his lips and started moving, slowly drawing his hips back and thrusting forward, the first motions cautious. Even though the pace was agonizingly slow, Mac felt like his breath was being forced out of him with it, the slide and slight burn amazing. When Jack’s careful control slipped and the next thrust came a bit harder—and grazed his prostate—Mac moaned and brought his legs up to wrap around Jack’s waist.

He started thrusting harder, and Mac noticed in an out-of-body sort of way that while Jack’s thrusts were getting harder they were also becoming shorter and faster, like he wasn’t pulling out as much. That didn’t bother Mac in the slightest because they were no less deep, and Jack managed to nail his prostate on almost every thrust. It was enough to make him scream, and Jack let out a deep growl, muttering under his breath, “_Mine_,” as he pounded into Mac even harder, pressing his face against his neck and biting him again.

“Yours,” Mac gasped out, and that was enough to make Jack slam his hips home and come hard, hips stuttering in place as he filled Mac up… and just kept coming.

Jack’s cock pulsing inside him was enough to make Mac let out something between a sob and a shout and come as well, his arms tightening around Jack’s neck. Jack, who was panting harshly, his face hidden as his hips kept stuttering forward. Mac tried desperately to catch his breath, one of his hands scratching through the short hair on the back of Jack’s head.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, lips against Jack’s temple, because Jack was whimpering now, his arms sliding under Mac’s back to hold him even closer. His hips hadn’t stopped moving but they had slowed down. “It’s okay, Jack.” Eventually he stilled, Mac’s hand massaging the back of his neck. His legs dropped from around Jack’s waist, thighs trembling with exertion as he pressed his mouth against Jack’s cheekbone. “Are you okay?”

“I have no idea,” Jack replied, his voice this rough, cracked thing that Mac had never heard before. He stroked a hand down Jack’s spine and couldn’t suppress a smile when he pushed into the touch, almost like a dog would. “Are _you_ okay?”

“Never better,” Mac said with a smile. His body ached in the best way and he’d never felt as happy as he did in that moment.

Jack whimpered when Mac shuddered because he was still inside him and any movement on Mac’s part went straight to his dick. He pressed a kiss to Mac’s jaw and tried to pull out… only he couldn’t. He froze, his eyes going huge again. “Uh, Mac? Please tell me this is the thing you told me to have an open mind about earlier?”

“Yeah.” Mac was breathless at the idea of Jack being stuck inside him for a while, another shudder coursing through him. He leaned up and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Looks like you aren’t going anywhere.”

Jack dropped back down into Mac’s embrace. “I guess not.” He settled his head on Mac’s shoulder and hugged him gently. “You’re really not… bothered by it?” He moved his hips a little so Mac would know what he was talking about.

Mac made a sound when Jack moved, something close to a moan that he tried to stifle. “Nope, no, I’m really not,” he said in a rush, staring very hard at the ceiling while he got his shit together. “I could explain why this is happening, but it’s a lot of biological stuff that’s probably going to put you to sleep or give you a complex.”

“Please, spare me the details.” Jack huffed out a laugh. He untangled one arm from around Mac to run his fingers lightly against the bite mark he left on Mac’s neck right before he came. “I should probably apologize for this.”

“You don’t have to,” Mac said, bringing a hand down to curl around Jack’s where it was touching his neck. “It felt… nice.” That was probably the understatement of the century, but Jack’s possessiveness had come across as passion, not anything sinister.

They laid in silence for a while, tangled up together—not that they had a choice—before Jack spoke again. “You know, back in that cell, when I was about to turn? I thought my biggest nightmare was coming true. I didn’t expect… hell, I didn’t expect you to accept it, let alone… this.”

“You’ve always accepted me,” Mac pointed out, thumb stroking absently at Jack’s shoulder blade. “I know it’s not exactly the same, but I’ve always been a little weird, and not only did you not judge me for it, you wound up embracing it. There was no way I wasn’t going to do the same thing for you.”

Jack pushed himself up and pressed his lips to Mac’s, swallowing the moan Mac let out when the motion made Jack’s hips shift a little. The movements of their lips were slow and gentle, like they had all the time the world to enjoy each other… which, in fact, they did.


End file.
